


Just My Type

by cinderellasleftshoe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, One Shot, Sharing a Bed, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 03:59:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderellasleftshoe/pseuds/cinderellasleftshoe
Summary: Cas has a bad dream. Dean makes it better.I gifted this to aerialiste because they're probably awake right now too.





	Just My Type

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aerialiste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerialiste/gifts).



"Dean?"

"Hmmm?" in a low murmur.

"Are you awake, Dean?" The cheap polyester sheets crinkled like folded paper as Castiel rolled onto his right side facing Dean's bed.

An expansive yawn, and a stretch of bare arms, and Dean rolled onto his left side. "Yeah, Cas," smooth and dark like Cuban rum, and almost as sweet.

"I had a nightmare," Cas whispered, stark despair running beneath the simple words, "I'm scared."

"Hmmm," Dean hummed and scooted backwards in the bed, the rustling of bed linens and complaint of springs loud in the otherwise black night.

"Dean?"

"C'mere."

"What if Sam comes back?" Cas asked, sitting upright with a soft groan of bed springs and looking toward the door. Dean couldn't see more than contours - shadows and light playing over the planes of the angel's face.

"He wont be back tonight." Another promiscuous yawn breathing in and out all the air in the room.

"But what if he is?" Cas turned and placed his feet on the floor, his movements slow on gravity-heavy limbs. The tacky, clearly flammable, orange floral rayon bedspread slid to the floor with a soft whump.

"He's not. But it doesn't matter. Sammy won't care. He's had plenty of hard nights, and he's slept with me to stave them off plenty of times. C'mere," with a firm, two-pat on the pillow.

Cas rose and crossed the two steps to Dean's bed, two bare steps, but they may as well have been two thousand for all the time it took Cas to cross that narrow space. But cross it he did. And he slipped silently into bed next to Dean.

"How do you do that?" Dean asked resettling into the bed and pulling Cas closer, adjusting his arms so they'd both fit on the double bed whose original creator must never have imagined it would be shared by two tall adult men. More's the pity.

"Do what?"

"How do you not make any noise when you don't want to."

Cas hesitated, but Dean snickered into Cas' shoulder. "Dude. You think I don't know you only rustle the covers when you want me to wake up?"

Cas sighed, "I'm an angel Dean."

"Yes, yes you are," Dean was murmuring again, this time into the muscle where Cas' shoulder met his neck.

"Dean?"

"You're a sleepy angel. Go to sleep," and Dean pulled the sheets and blankets up to their chins.

"Dean..." Cas pulled the last syllable so it was almost a whine.

"Fine. You're my sleepy angel," Dean laughed gentle like warm milk against Cas' throat.

"Yes, yes I am," Cas sighing again, this time in contentment.

"So, go to sleep."

And they did.

**Author's Note:**

> I just had this thought tonight as I couldn't sleep that I could wake up the person sleeping in my bed, or I could write. How would I wake them up. This is the result.


End file.
